Bucky Remembers
by Qweb
Summary: Sometime down the road, when Bucky Barnes has recovered many of his memories, the Avengers use him to learn more about their reticent captain. Not that Cap thinks Bucky is always right. Ch1-Introduction. Ch4-Steve as a Boyfriend Ch5-When Steve said "I Love You" Ch6-What the Future Holds Ch7-"The Dating Game" Ch8-"Pool Hustler" Ch9-"Anchor"
1. Introduction

**Bucky Remembers**

**Introduction**

Bucky Barnes had conquered the Winter Soldier — for the most part.

He had to exercise constant vigilance to keep the Winter Soldier locked up and sometimes the Hydra assassin sneaked out in Barnes' nightmares. Literally sneaked out a few times, worrying Steve Rogers to distraction. But, for the most part, Bucky had won the battle for Barnes' mind.

Bucky remembered his youth and childhood — not everything, but as much as any of us do. He remembered the war more clearly and — mercifully — could remember only fragments of his years as the Asset. All the electronic wiping and repeated freezing had permanently damaged his memories of those 70 years. Only a few memories remained (though, naturally, it was the most traumatic memories that had seared themselves deeply enough to survive Hydra's mind meddling).

Still, Barnes was more Bucky than Winter Soldier and he really liked living in Avengers Tower.

It wasn't the luxury — though the accommodations were finer than anything the poor boy from Brooklyn had ever imagined. It was the security.

Bucky felt safe surrounded by so many people who didn't trust him and wouldn't hesitate to put him down hard if he threatened Steve or anyone else. Mostly Steve, because Barnes had direct evidence that Steve would rather die than hurt Barnes, whether Barnes was Bucky or the Winter Soldier.

That was a Winter Soldier memory that Barnes had retained, because he hadn't been wiped after. He remembered Steve giving the Soldier chance after chance to kill him, instead of breaking the assassin's neck or bashing his brains out against one of the metal struts. Captain America had had multiple chances to kill the Winter Soldier, and hadn't taken them.

Bucky raved at Steve about that sometimes, but Steve pointed out in his patient fashion that the Winter Soldier had taken three unimpeded shots at Cap and failed to make a kill. And then there was that ridiculous beating at the end, when the Winter Soldier's metal arm could have snapped Steve's neck or smashed his skull easily if something — some memory? — hadn't held him back.

Bucky wasn't buying it, so he was glad to live with the Avengers. Maybe Steve was too stupid to kill the Winter Soldier, but Bucky was confident that one of the Avengers would if it was necessary.

Bucky felt safe in Avengers Tower, because Steve was safe there.

The Avengers were wary of Steve's old friend — which was good. They knew too much about the Winter Soldier and had seen enough meltdowns to know that the Winter Soldier still existed.

Yet, after living together peacefully — minus nightmares and flashbacks (not all of them Barnes'), the Avengers had developed a certain feeling of familiarity. They weren't afraid to question (interrogate) Barnes about their reticent captain's early days.

Steve knows these chats (cross-examinations) are a ploy to learn his secrets — he is the master strategist, after all — but it's a scheme he can't evade, because the more he and Bucky talk about their past, the more Bucky remembers and the more Bucky supplants the Winter Soldier.

Captain America had been willing to sacrifice his life to save the Winter Soldier. Steve Rogers was willing to sacrifice a few secrets to help Bucky Barnes remember.


	2. Mama's Boys

_A/N: I posted two chapters to start with, so if you didn't read chapter one first, go back. That's the introduction. This story is the auspicious beginning._

* * *

**Mama's Boys**

"How long have you known each other?" Pepper asked.

"All my life," Steve answered. "I don't remember not knowing Bucky. Do you remember?" he asked his friend. "He's a year older," Steve explained to the others, then teased. "Ninety-six years old now."

Bucky elbowed his pal in revenge, but obediently frowned in thought. "I don't know if I remember, or if I just heard the story so many times.

"We moved to Brooklyn in 1920 when father got a job in the factory." He chuckled and shook his head in sudden realization. "My father changed the world because he chose a house two doors down from Sarah Rogers," he said in amazement.

* * *

_When Sarah Rogers saw newcomers moving in, she started baking a pie. She baked a lot of pies, because the grocer sold bruised fruit for a lower price and you couldn't tell the difference in pie filling._

_When she delivered her offering, her little boy toddled along with her, literally holding onto her apron strings._

_Ruth Barnes accepted the gift with pleasure. It was hard to organize a household and get food on the table before her tired husband got home from a long day at the factory, while trying to keep an active 3-year-old occupied. At the moment, her son was occupied staring at the new little boy who stared right back._

_Bucky was fascinated. The visitor was as small, pale and fragile looking as his mother's precious porcelain doll, the one she only let him hold under strict supervision and with many warnings to be very, very careful._

_Steve stepped away from his mother, so he could get a better look around her skirts._

"_He walks very well for such a little one," Ruth complimented._

_Sarah sighed sadly, but steadfastly. "Stevie is 2, older than he looks, I know. He has weak lungs and a weak heart, which have stunted his growth." She smiled. "But he is very smart, though I shouldn't say it. Say, hello to Mrs. Barnes, Steven."_

"_Hello, Mrs. Barnes," the boy said dutifully, with the sweetest smile and the brightest, most curious blue eyes. "I'm pleased to meet you."_

_That was well spoken indeed for a 2-year-old, but not really surprising for a child who spent all his time with adults._

_Mrs. Barnes touched her skirts and bent her head in a polite curtsey and returned the boy's grave greeting. "This is my son, Bucky. He's 3. I hope you will be friends."_

"_Hi, Bucky."_

"_Hi, Steve." Bucky decided he agreed with his mother about being friends, so he offered, "Wanna play? I have blocks."_

* * *

The Avengers were laughing. "That's how it began?" Tony said breathlessly. "The epic friendship that spanned two continents and 90 years — 'I have blocks'?"

Bucky shrugged. "What do you want from a 3-year-old? The way my mother told it, Steve showed me my first ABCs with the blocks. Before that, I'd just built towers and knocked them down. I didn't know that the designs on the sides were letters. But Sarah had already taught Steve some simple spelling. Steve was always smarter than me."

"With schoolwork, maybe," Steve put in. "But not when it came to working with other people and fitting in. I never fit in."

"Our mothers encouraged us to be friends. They saw we could help each other," Bucky told the Avengers. "Steve was smarter and could help me with my schoolwork."

"Bucky was bigger and stronger and could help me when I got tired or couldn't reach something, and later when bullies picked on me. Our mothers thought we made a good team," Steve said.

"Your mothers were wise women," Thor said with a nod.

"So, let me get this straight, you saved the world because your mothers thought it was a good idea?" Clint asked.

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. "They would have thought it was a good idea," Steve insisted.

"Not the dying part, though," Bucky answered.

"True," Steve agreed. "They would have disapproved of the dying part."

"Just a pair of mama's boys," Tony said, shaking his head in amusement.

* * *

_A/N: They won't all be cute stories, but some might be._


	3. Available

**Available**

The Avengers and James "Bucky" Barnes watched in bemusement while Captain America cooked.

And cooked.

And cooked.

Steve Rogers liked to cook. When he cooked, he knew there would be enough food to fill him up.

He mixed herbs and seasonings into ground meat and separated the enormous pile of meat into three bundles that he patted into loaf pans. He set those three next to the three meatloaves he'd already made, then he checked the oven to see if it was up to temperature.

"What's in those three?" Clint Barton asked curiously.

"Ground beef and pork sausage, oregano and garlic. I'll serve it with an Italian tomato sauce," Steve answered, as he began to load the industrial size oven.

"And the other three?" Bruce Banner asked.

"Classic meatloaf — ground beef, crackers. But I serve it with brown gravy instead of tomato sauce," Steve said.

Tony Stark ostentatiously wiped his mouth as if he was drooling.

"They're both really good," Bucky assured the Avengers. He was only half paying attention, combing his hair using a shiny appliance as a mirror. Satisfied, he stood up. Steve planted his hand on Bucky's head and ruffled the neatly combed hair, just as Bucky had always done to little Steve.

"Hey!"

"Don't comb your hair in the kitchen. It's not sanitary," Steve said severely.

"You sound like your mom," Bucky jeered.

"James Buchanan Barnes! Get that filthy thing out of my kitchen!" Steve pitched his voice a little higher and gave a snap to Bucky's name that was unlike his usual phrasing.

Bucky was halfway out the door before he realized he was going. He stopped, blinking. "What was that?"

"Your mother," Steve smirked.

Bucky had to smile back. He'd lost so much, but he still knew his mother's voice, even in Steve impersonation. "You trying to start a fight again, Rogers?" he challenged. "That never worked so well in the old days."

"I wish you'd stop spreading that rumor," Steve complained. "I never started fights."

"Wait, I thought you got beat up all the time," Tony protested. "I distinctly remember Aunt Peggy telling dad about driving you to be super-sized and you kept pointing out places where you'd been beat up."

"I didn't say I didn't get into fights. I said I didn't start them," Steve insisted.

"Then you should have run away," Clint said logically. As a child, he had been bullied by larger kids and adults. He'd made an art of running, hiding and climbing out of reach. It was just good sense as far as he was concerned, but Steve had been raised with a different philosophy.

Steve shook his head. "My mother said once you start running, they'll never let you stop."

Bucky snorted. "With your short legs and asthma, you couldn't have run very far anyway," he said practically. "They'd have caught you right away. And then you'd have been bruised AND wheezing."

Clint nodded. That made more sense. If you couldn't run, then you had to take a stand.

"If you didn't start fights, how did you get into so many?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, Steve, how come?" taunted Bucky, who had rescued his pal from so many lopsided battles.

"I just tried to get people to do the right thing," Steve said. "Sammy Marco was tormenting Mrs. McCauley's cat and I asked him to stop. The cat wasn't causing any trouble and Mrs. McCauley needed her to keep the mice out of her flour. She was a baker," Steve explained to the Avengers.

"Instead of leaving the cat alone, Sammy punched you in the face and dumped you upside down into the trash can," Bucky said.

"But the cat got away," Steve pointed out.

Bucky frowned. "Edna Epstein got away, too," he remembered. He told the others, "She was a shy little girl and two older boys were harassing the 'Jew girl' on her way home from school."

"I told them Father O'Brien would be ashamed of them. I got between them and Edna and stopped them from following her," Steve said. "But I didn't throw any punches."

"They threw plenty," Bucky said. "Gave you a bloody nose and a black eye before I got there. I only got one punch in before they ran off — pair of cowards." He thought for a moment. "How about the last time I rescued you before I went overseas, in back of the movie theater?"

"The guy was disrupting the theater, yelling at the newsreel," Steve said calmly. "I just asked him to stop. He's the one who insisted we step outside."

"Where you got beat up. Steve used to say things like, 'I had him on the ropes.' And 'I had him right where I wanted him,'" Bucky told the Avengers, but paused at the grin that crossed his pal's face. "What?" he demanded.

"I did have them right where I wanted," Steve answered. "Out of the theater, away from the cat, away from Edna — right where I wanted them."

"Out of the theater." Tony was beginning to see the method in Steve's madness.

"And then the other people could hear the movie," Steve agreed with a smile.

"Away from the cat," Bruce mused.

"So Mittens could get away," Steve affirmed.

"So you … offered yourself up as a sacrifice," Natasha said.

"Mmm," Steve said noncommittally. Bucky was staring at him. How come he'd never seen this?

"Just like you did on the Valkyrie and on the helicarrier," Tony realized. He'd done the self-sacrifice routine himself, after all.

Steve just shrugged.

"But you didn't start fights," Clint said skeptically.

Steve's eyes twinkled. "No, I just … made myself available for them."


	4. Boyfriend

**Boyfriend**

"I want to know if Barnes is jealous now that you've got a new boyfriend," Tony teased, gesturing at Sam with his glass. Steve and Sam rolled their eyes simultaneously, but Bucky scowled.

"That's the problem with people today," he said, sounding all of his 96 years. "They think everything is about sex. Two people can't be friends without sleeping together and if the sex is bad, then the friendship is over. Friends with benefits," he snorted derisively. "All that does is spoil a good friendship."

"Take it easy, Buck," Steve soothed. "Tony's just joking. He knows we don't swing that way."

"How would I know that?" Tony protested, pushing the joke a little farther. "I've never seen Cap dating anyone. How about it, Romanoff. I heard you got shot down every time you tried to set Steve up."

Tease was one of Natasha's default settings. "That's true," she said judiciously, smiling over the rim of her glass. "As far as I know he hasn't been on any dates, but he did claim he had been kissed since he woke up."

Steve shifted uncomfortably, just a trifle, but Bucky's 90-year-old protective instincts kicked in instantly.

"Don't you people know him at all?" he growled.

"Easy, Buck. To be fair, you had a quarter century to get to know me. These guys have only had a couple of years, off and on. They don't mean anything by it."

Tony and Natasha exchanged a glance, realizing they'd crossed some line they hadn't noticed.

"It was just a joke," Clint warily offered on their behalf. No one wanted to get the former Winter Soldier worked up.

"Look …"

Steve stood, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Simmer down, Buck."

Bucky took a deep breath. His shoulders relaxed, causing everyone else in the room to relax.

"OK, I'm not mad. But they ought to understand."

Steve knew what Bucky was going to say. He'd heard it before. Steve sighed. "Then I'm out of here. Who wants lemonade?"

Bruce and Sam raised their hands. Steve nodded and went to the kitchen, pointedly shutting the door behind him.

Everyone's eyes swiveled to Bucky.

"No one meant to make you feel uncomfortable," Bruce said quietly. "I know homosexuality was actually illegal in your day, so you might not feel comfortable with jokes about the topic."

Bucky batted that notion away with his metallic hand. "We had all sorts of people living in our neighborhood. A couple of artistic guys gave Steve drawing lessons. When I realized they 'lived together,' I watched them like a hawk. Everybody said homosexuals were all child molesters. But that was obviously not true. They loved each other more than most of the married couples I knew. They were nice to us. No, I don't care about the jokes. I care that you don't understand Steve.

"Steve is the total Boy Scout, even though our families could never afford that. He's loyal, honest, honorable — you think he's not that way about women? You think he's a two-timer?"

He looked at the Avengers in expectation and got blank looks back.

Bucky shook his head and said with emphasis, "He's a 'one woman at a time' guy, a 'til death do us part' kind of guy. And Peggy Carter is still alive."

Natasha's mouth formed a small, round "oh."

"But that … that's just sad," Tony said sympathetically.

"Yeah, that's another word for him," Bucky admitted.


	5. I Love You

**I Love You**

"Buck, remember when I told you I loved you?" Steve Rogers asked, not looking up from the sketch he was working on.

Surprised, James "Bucky" Barnes looked up from his book on the history of rock-and-roll music. Before he could ask, "What brought that up?" he saw Steve tilt his head toward the hall. James didn't have Steve's super hearing, but his attention was attracted by two moving shadows. It wasn't the fact that the shadows were moving, but that they stopped moving at Steve's words.

Oh, eavesdroppers. It wasn't often that Steve could prank his friends, because he was a terrible liar, but this was the truth — sort of.

So James added fuel to the fire by saying, "You'll have to be more specific, Stevie. Which time you said you loved me?"

The entrance dimmed slightly, as the eavesdroppers moved closer, blocking more light from the hall window.

"That time when your father heard me," Steve answered.

Oh yeah, James remembered. "Yeah, he got so upset. He told you that men didn't say such things about other men."

"To be fair, he wasn't mad, he was just worried about what other people would think. A small, fair-haired guy who liked to draw — he'd just have to be gay," Steve said. Gay wasn't the word Mr. Barnes would have used, but Steve wasn't going for a direct quote.

"Yeah, and that could be a literal death sentence in those days," James said, nodding. "You got into enough trouble without people thinking that."

Steve chuckled, remembering the scene, so glad that Bucky could remember, too. "He was so funny trying to explain without going into details. Fortunately, before he could get tangled up in his lecture, your grandma told him to shut it."

"God, she was a pistol," James said, remembering his loving yet terrifying Grandmother Barnes. She had been a suffragist and a tireless advocate for rights for women and support for the poor. She defended her grandson's sickly friend as fiercely as Bucky did later. "She told Father to not spoil your childhood. A seven-year-old was still allowed to tell his best friend he loves him."

Steve's quick ears caught the faintest sigh of disappointment from the hall. He grinned at James. "I still didn't understand what I'd done to upset your father."

James laughed out loud. "You thought he must be jealous!"

"So I threw my arms around him and said, 'Uncle James, I love you, too!'"

The old friends laughed out loud.

"That's just sickeningly sweet," grumbled a voice from the hallway. Clint Barton was the first to realize they'd been had. "How did you know we were there?" he demanded, because stealth was his business.

"Super ears heard you," James said, nodding at his friend. "Then I saw the light change in the entrance. Wouldn't have noticed it without Steve's tip off."

Shaking his head in disgust, Tony Stark threw himself on the couch. "I thought I'd caught you declaring your undying love."

"Of course our love is undying. He's my brother from another mother," Steve said, proudly throwing out the recent reference.

"Oh, well then you're supposed to say 'I love you, maaaan!'" Clint said, referencing an old TV commercial that neither Steve nor Bucky had heard of.

"No, it's more like, 'I loooove you, maaaaan,'" Tony objected. "More like you're drunk."

"No way," Clint objected. The two men went off arguing amiably.

Peace returned to the library in Avengers Tower.

"I love you, brother," Steve said honestly.

James smirked. "That goes without saying," he answered.

_A/N: From the flashback scene in TWS about his folks wanting to give Steve a lift to the cemetery, I deduce (or assume) three things. Bucky's parents were both still alive when Steve's mother died. They were prosperous enough to have an auto. And they considered Steve part of their family._


	6. What the Future Holds

**What the Future Holds**

"So, Steve, what's the best thing about the future?" Bruce asked curiously.

"Electricity?" Tony asked. He leaned on the kitchen table, watching Steve and Clint forage for food.

"We had electricity, Tony," Steve said condescendingly, while he assembled a couple of huge sandwiches. "We had electric lights, gasoline engines, jet planes, moving pictures, even roller coasters."

"What about refrigerators?" Clint asked, fishing in said refrigerator for leftovers.

"Lots of people had refrigerators," Bucky said. "But not us, we couldn't afford one."

"All we had was that toxic ice box," Steve remembered.

Bucky made a face. "There was always mold in it. No matter how much we scrubbed, we couldn't get it clean," Bucky said.

"I bet that was bad for Steve's asthma," Bruce said, sipping a cup of tea.

"Yeah," Bucky said quietly. He hated to remember those days.

"I didn't even dare open the dang thing when it got bad," Steve said.

"We learned the hard way, we needed to scrub it out regularly," Bucky said.

"Didn't even know what was making Steve sick, but my mom came over and saw the mold. She ordered me to clean the disgusting thing."

"Mama knew best," Tony commented.

"Mama Barnes always did," Steve agreed.

"You still haven't answered Bruce's question," Natasha pointed out, while she washed an apple and cut it into wedges. "What do you personally find most remarkable?"

"Microwaves?" Clint offered, as he started to reheat his leftovers.

"They had microwaves in the 1940s. They just didn't know it," Bruce said, deadpan.

Clint made a face at him. "You know I meant microwave ovens," he said.

The others laughed, but Bucky said he was inclined to agree with Clint — and stole a piece of the rewarmed pizza. "I love that it's so fast," he rhapsodized, while using his metal arm to fend off the indignant archer.

"It has its uses," Natasha admitted. "But the food quality isn't always the best."

"Buck's food quality never was the best," Steve joshed. He handed Bucky one of the sandwiches, thereby rescuing Clint's pizza. (Cap was good at rescues.)

"Not compared with our mothers," Bucky said sadly. "We never got good home-cooked food after my mother died. We pretty much boiled everything."

"Television!" Tony announced, wanting to distract from sad memories. "I know TV was invented in the 1940s, but it was fuzzy, black and white…"

"And rare," Steve said. "We saw it, what, once, Buck?"

"Yeah, it was a Dodger game. They set a TV up in a local saloon." Bucky snorted in amusement. "It was the first sports bar, Steve!"

Everybody laughed. "We might as well have been listening to the radio," Steve said. "We were lurking in the back of the room because we could only afford to buy one beer. One beer between us."

"All we could really see were specks moving around on a gray screen," Bucky said.

Steve thought of color screens, close ups and instant replays. "Baseball on TV has improved a lot," he admitted.

"Dishwashers are nice," Bucky offered, loading some dirty plates in it.

"Dishwasher was a job title, not a machine," Steve quipped, giving Bucky the evil eye. "Bucky's job title according to his mother."

Bucky groaned, remembering chapped, red hands during the winter.

The Avengers laughed.

"So many things we take for granted, would have been science fiction when Steve and Bucky were growing up," Bruce mused. "Just think, it's been 45 years since we put a man on the moon."

The Avengers started tossing out some of their favorite inventions.

"Computers," Natasha said.

"Also a job title when I was a kid," Steve commented.

"Cellphones," Clint offered.

"Arc reactors," Tony boasted. "Artificial intelligence."

"Robots," Bucky admitted.

"Asthma inhalers," Steve said softly. Everyone went quiet. Steve shrugged and apologized for dampening the exuberance. "Of all the things I can think of, that's the one that would have made the biggest difference in my life before the serum."

"Penicillin," Natasha said with a nod, remembering the many times antibiotics had helped her fight off infections.

"Prosthetics," Clint said, rapping on Bucky's artificial arm.

"Modern medicine's come a long way," agreed Tony, who'd had major surgery in the most primitive of conditions. He appreciated modern medicine.

"Still got a ways to go, though," said Bucky the science experiment.

They thought in silence a moment. "Right," Tony decided. "Excuse me, I need to write a check for the children's hospital."

"And veterans!" Bucky called after him.

"Can't forget the disabled veterans!" Tony agreed.

The others shuffled around in the kitchen for a moment. "OK, that's enough guilt," Clint decided. "I'm using the refrigerator, the microwave oven, the big screen TV and the DVD player — in that order. No point letting all that modern science go to waste."


	7. The Dating Game

_A/N: Hard to believe that skinny Steve couldn't get a girl when he was so cute and such a gentleman._

* * *

**The Dating Game**

"You're so thoughtful, Steve. I don't know why girls didn't like you back in the day," Darcy Lewis said, as she finished putting away the groceries that Steve had carried six miles for her.

Steve Rogers blinked at her. "Girls liked me," he protested, at the same time Bucky Barnes said, "Girls liked Steve just fine."

Darcy looked at the duo oddly.

"But you've said you never had any dates, except when Bucky set you up," she pointed out.

"Oh ... but that's different," Steve said, as if that was obvious. Bucky nodded along, as if it was obvious to him, too.

Darcy sat at the counter and rested her chin on her arm. "OK, I don't get it. What's the dif?"

The two men from the 1930s exchanged a glance. Bucky shrugged. "Kids. They think the only difference between then and now is the technology."

"And fashion," Darcy chirped brightly.

The men gave her a look. She laughed.

"Look, I was a political science major, remember. I know that attitudes were different. Men mistakenly thought they were superior. Whites foolishly believed that Blacks were inferior. Gays had to hide their love. And so on."

"Maybe you've read it in a book, but that doesn't mean you understand," Bucky said kindly.

"What's it got to do with dating?" Darcy asked.

"Dating was new when we were teens," Steve said.

It boggled Darcy's mind to think that the Dark Ages extended right up to the 20th century. "So, you had what? Arranged marriages?" She was incredulous.

"My grandmother had an arranged marriage," Bucky said. "Grandfather Barnes was a real bastard, from what everyone said. His father owned a store, so he looked like a good match when grandmother's father set up the marriage. But grandfather was a drunk and ran the store into bankruptcy after his father died. Then he only worked off and on as a laborer and mostly lived on what grandmother made as a laundress. He took all her money and drank it away, then beat her for not having more. His lovemaking was more like rape and when she got pregnant, he beat her more because he didn't want to spend money on kids. She had three miscarriages before my father was born, miraculously healthy. When Dad was a crawling baby, his father kicked him aside like a dog. Dad had a permanent limp all his life, just a small one but a constant reminder of his father."

"Fortunately, Bucky's grandfather went to work drunk and was killed by falling crates. Best thing that ever happened to her, Grandma Barnes said," Steve said. "She worked her way up to head laundress at a big hotel, then opened her own laundry. She made decent money, raised her son to respect women and was a fierce suffragist."

"She was terrifying," Bucky agreed with a fond smile.

Darcy was horrified. "And the police and the church and everyone just let him beat your grandmother."

Steve laughed without humor. "Darcy, I always shake my head when I hear about gays wanting to get married and other people protesting about the 'sanctity' of marriage. For hundreds of years, marriage was just a contract to transfer ownership of a woman from her father to her husband. She had no rights. Anything she earned belonged to him, including her children, and he could kill her and them with impunity."

"Why do you think the father 'gives the bride away' at a wedding," Bucky said cynically, drawing a horrified look from Darcy.

"Of course, not everyone abused the privilege. Maybe we were just heavily influenced in our childhood by Gramma Barnes," Steve said fairly.

Bucky laughed, "Maybe so," he agreed. "She was a woman of strong opinions," he told Darcy. "And she wanted to make sure her little men grew up to respect women."

"According to Gramma, things began to change around the turn of the century," Steve said. "A woman had more say in her life, but still, most women were set up by their families. Two families would know each other and think their children would make a good match. Or a man would know about a woman and approach her father for permission to court her. That's how my parents met," Steve said. "He saw her at church and approached her parents. My grandparents' house was small, no parlor for a courting couple, so he and my mother 'went out,' usually just to the park to listen to a concert at the bandstand or to a local cafe for lunch. And to church on Sunday, of course."

"It sounds very respectable," Darcy said, making a face.

"It was respectable," Steve said. "Mother didn't have an old aunt to go along as chaperone, but everyone in the neighborhood knew them. If father had set a foot wrong, someone would have told her parents. But they behaved and got married and had a couple of weeks together before America was drawn into the Great War and father was called up. He died in the trenches and never saw his son."

"This is really depressing," Darcy pointed out. "And doesn't have anything to do with girls not wanting to date you."

"This is just the background," Steve said. "What you think of as dating — men and women going out dancing or to movies with no sense of a chaperone — that pretty much started after the Great War — World War I — when so many fathers and eligible men were killed. Women had to work to survive. They had to meet men on their own. Women had choices," Steve said. "And they didn't chose me."

"I still don't get it," Darcy said. "Maybe you were short, but lots of women are shorter. Your sweet personality didn't change or your pretty face." She grabbed Steve's face and pinched his cheeks, while she made grandmotherly kissing noises.

Bucky didn't try very hard to smother his laughter. Steve pulled away in mock irritation, but couldn't hide his smile.

"You're missing the point, doll," Bucky said. "Girls liked Steve. He held doors open for them. Carried groceries. Fed their cats when they went out of town, even though cats made him sneeze. But they didn't want to date him."

"The point of dating was to find a man to marry," Steve said. "And since they'd already crossed me off as husband material, no one who knew me wanted to date me."

Darcy looked like she wanted to protest.

"You can't tell me it's not true today," Bucky said shrewdly. "I've seen those commercials for online dating sites. They all talk about engagement rings and permanent relationships."

"Not everybody wants to pair up right away," Darcy argued. "Some girls just want to have fun — I'm not necessarily talking about sex, just a drink, some dinner, a little relief from the daily grind."

Steve nodded. "And that takes money, which I didn't have either. If I'd had Howard Stark's millions, I probably could have had any girl I wanted, but I didn't. I was short, sick and poor."

"Three strikes and you're out," Bucky agreed.

Darcy frowned thoughtfully at the guys. "I think you're missing something," she decided. "You did have double dates, when Bucky set you up."

"Yeah, and the girls were always more interested in Buck," Steve agreed.

Bucky looked a little ashamed. "If you'd just tried to hold a conversation," he said.

"That was your problem, Steve," Darcy decided. "It wasn't social history or personal wealth. Look, throughout history there have been women who loved the unhealthy artistic types, women who worked to support them while they obsessed over their art and coughed out their tubercular lungs in drafty Paris attics. Motherly, self-sacrificing women. Left to yourself, that's the type of woman you would have attracted. But the kind of woman who liked big, buff Bucky Barnes wasn't going to fall for sick, skinny Steve Rogers." Darcy spoke with decision. "Your problem wasn't women, Steve. Your problem was that Barnes was a lousy wing man."

* * *

_A/N: It's funny how most of these conversations seem to take place in the kitchen. _


	8. The Pool Hustler

_A/N: Sorry no story last Saturday. Flew back from Germany Friday (was up 25 hours by the time I got to bed) so I was exhausted Saturday and had unpacking and a boatload of laundry to do. Didn't get any writing done on my vacation either. Too busy! But I saw beautiful Budapest, Vienna, Nuremberg, swans with babies, the largest pipe organ in Europe and a real German biergarten in the courtyard of an abbey. Must be fodder for stories in there somewhere._

* * *

**The Pool Hustler**

"I told you, you didn't want to do that," Bucky Barnes said to Tony Stark, as he lost to Steve Rogers playing pool. "Never play pool against Steve. Even before he was Cap, he was a natural. Look at the way he throws that shield around. He had to learn those bank shots somewhere. Let me tell you a story…"

* * *

The pool hustler entered the saloon, hearing the siren sound of pool balls clicking together. The first thing he noticed was the fan spinning at full tilt above the twin pool tables, which was odd in late November. The brisk breeze from the fan was combated by the roaring furnace and the body heat of a dozen men standing with their backs to the bar, watching two young men at the pool table.

The game wasn't so exciting to the pool professional. The blond man seemed unable or unwilling to bank. Both had amazingly steady hands, however. The dark-haired player sent the white cue ball cleanly between two balls with scarcely a cat's whisker space on either side. The cue ball kissed the seven, which rolled neatly into a pocket.

"Nice one, Bucky," the blond player said in approval.

Bucky smirked. "See if you can beat that one, Steve."

They obviously weren't playing a traditional game of eight-ball, the hustler realized, or it would have been Bucky's turn again. Some kind of challenge game.

Steve — and the hustler — studied the table, where the cue ball was tucked between the eight ball and a corner pocket. It was an easy escape, the hustler thought. A double bank off the end and side would take the ball around the corner and bring it out to pocket the nine.

But Steve shook his head and lay down his cue. "You got me," he laughed. The bar patrons chuckled or grumbled and money exchanged hands.

* * *

The hustler stepped forward. "Play the winner?" he asked, fanning out five $10 bills on the pool table. That was a lot of money in 1941.

Steve and Bucky exchanged a speaking glance. Bucky's eyes urged agreement, but Steve shook his head.

"Sorry, mister, we don't have fifty dollars," Steve said politely.

"If we take the rent money…" Bucky started.

"No, that money belongs to Mrs. Kimitch, Bucky," Steve said firmly. "And it still wouldn't make fifty dollars."

"But …" Steve gave his friend a heavy, significant look.

"Fine," Bucky said. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a collection of bills. He kept back $5 — his fund for Steve's medicine, though Steve had been unusually healthy this autumn. Bucky counted out the rest of his money. "Seventeen," he announced.

Steve had sold a couple of drawings recently. He kept back the rent and the grocery money and laid down two fives. Steve's lifelong poverty and his mother's strict upbringing had left him with a distaste for gambling, but he owed Bucky so much and Bucky obviously wanted this. Steve would forgo his principles for his brother.

The bartender offered $3. "Here, make it an even $30."

The hustler saw the bartender and the dark-haired player looked a lot alike. They had to be relatives of some sort.

The hustler agreed to the wager and took back two of his tens.

"Since we're shorting you on the bet, I'll let you play Steve instead of me," Bucky said with a grin.

"Buck," Steve said in exasperation. "You know I don't like to play for money."

Bucky gave Steve a heavy significant glance. The smaller man sighed and began to chalk his cue. "You can still cancel the wager," Steve told the hustler fairly. "Since you thought you were playing Bucky."

The bar behind the hustler began to buzz. He heard bills rustling.

"I assume you actually do know how to bank?" the hustler said.

Steve smiled. "Yes."

"Are we agreed?" Bucky asked impatiently.

The hustler was curious now. He agreed. "Straight pool to 100?"

"Make it 50," Steve said. "Bucky's got to get to work."

They lagged for break and the skinny young man won. The hustler racked the balls and stepped back.

The crowd pressed closer.

"Hey!" the bartender said sharply. "You boys know the rules!"

Part of the crowd moved back, to leave their cigars and cigarettes in ashtrays on the bar.

Steve lined up his shot and sent the cue ball crashing into the triangle of balls. With a crack, the fifteen balls split in all directions. Two fell into pockets, so Steve continued. He methodically began to sink the balls, calling each shot as he went. "Two in the side pocket," he said with a nod at the indicated pocket. "Four in the corner."

Yeah, he can bank. In fact, bank shots were his specialty. He ran the table twice. The hustler reracked fourteen balls whenever Steve was down to one on the table.

"I'm good, but Steve's better," Bucky told the hustler with quiet pride. "We can only play if he takes a handicap."

"Like no bank shots," the hustler realized.

"Right. He's a natural for seeing the angles."

At one point, the hustler thought he would get a chance to play, when the cue ball was snugged up against the six at an impossible shot angle, but Steve called a shot the professional hadn't even considered. It took a triple bank shot to send the cue ball scooting clear across the table to sink the fifteen, the only other ball on the table.

The hustler shook his head in admiration and reracked again. The professional didn't even care that Steve only needed to sink eight more balls to win. He simply admired the young man's technique. Each bank shot was precisely aimed to touch the called ball at exactly the right angle to spin it into the proper pocket and leave the cue ball in position for the next shot. For his last shot, Steve gave the hustler a tiny smile and called "Six in the corner" and he tapped the indicated pocket with his elbow. He banked the cue ball twice, to hit the three, which hit the eleven, which nudged the six into the corner pocket right beside Steve.

"Game," announced Bucky, as he slipped the 50th counter into place.

The professional handed over the winnings with a friendly smile. "I think you hustled me, young man," he mock scolded.

"I think you were planning to hustle us," Steve answered, giving the bartender six dollars and divvying up the rest between him and Bucky.

"It's a living," the hustler said with a shrug. "Have you ever considered it? You have a gift and, as innocent as you look, you could take a lot of suckers."

"And then get beat up and have his winnings stolen," Bucky said pessimistically (because he knew Steve). "No thanks."

"You could always go along as bodyguard," the hustler said. "I'd be glad to teach you the ropes."

"Thank you, but no thanks, sir," Steve said. "I don't like to gamble." (Said the man who would one day jump out of planes without a parachute.)

"Well," the hustler was unwilling to let go of the notion of working with this likeable, talented youngster. "What about exhibitions? People would pay to see you play. Wouldn't they?" he asked the bar at large, receiving a murmur of agreement from the crowd. "I could teach you to make some trick shots — like jumping the cue ball over another ball."

Learning something new was a powerful attraction for Steve and he said so, "But I don't think I could work long in pool halls. See, I have awful asthma. If I stay in a pool hall or saloon too long, the smoke gets to me and I can't breathe."

The hustler's eyes went up to the fan.

"Yeah," Bucky agreed. "My cousin," he indicated the bartender, "will let us run the fan for a couple of hours, but then we have to clear out so everyone can warm up."

"The fellas know I can't take the smoke, so, if they want to watch, they have to keep back or leave their smokes on the bar," Steve said.

That could be a problem, the hustler acknowledged. But they might be able to work it out. In any case, he'd like to show Steve a few tricks.

They spent a pleasant few minutes as the hustler demonstrated a couple of tricks and Steve tried to copy them, but then it was time for the boys to go. They said they'd be back in a month.

* * *

"But we never saw him again," Bucky told the Avengers. "Pearl Harbor happened. I got drafted and Steve joined up."

"Do you remember the hustler's name?" Tony asked curiously.

"Vince …" Bucky hesitated.

"Lemond, Le Mans, something like that," Steve contributed. "He helped me out. I use some of those pool tricks with the shield."

"I have found a memoir, 'A Hustler's Diary,' by Vincent LeMond with a publication date of 1948," Jarvis announced.

"Must be the same guy," Bucky said.

"There is no doubt about it," Jarvis answered. "One section makes it clear."

Jarvis read: "I was at the movies in 1944, watching a newsreel. Imagine my surprise when I recognized Bucky from that little saloon in Brooklyn and then I saw the man next to him. Captain America was little Steve, the kid I wanted to turn into a pool hustler! It's a miracle of modern science to see how the little guy has grown. I wouldn't have known him without Bucky by his side. But then the newsreel turned to showing Captain America in action. He threw that marvelous shield down, so it leaped over a POW to hit the Nazi behind him. Then I knew that Steve had remembered my lessons and I was happy that I had contributed to the war effort. Captain America learned trick shots from an old pool hustler. The world would never believe it."


	9. Anchor

_A/N: I finished this little story a while ago, then forgot about it. Tsk tsk._

**Anchor**

"He always was an ungrateful punk," Bucky said.

The Avengers regarded him as if he was crazy. History had practically deified Steve Rogers. How could he have been ungrateful?

"I'd rescue him from a beating and he'd say 'I could have handled it,'" Bucky explained. "I invited him to move in with me after his mother died — he didn't even have a job right then; he gave it up to take care of her when she was dying. But he said he could take care of himself. Ungrateful, like I said." Bucky was only teasing, but Steve looked genuinely downcast. Bucky was suddenly sorry he'd said anything.

"I didn't mean to be ungrateful, Buck," he said quietly. "I just didn't want to be an anchor around your neck like I was with mom. She could have remarried — there were a few guys who asked her out — but all of them got cold feet when they found out about her sickly kid. Times were tight and nobody wanted to take on such an expensive burden. She never had any money to spare, never went out and had fun. She just worked two jobs and took in laundry on the side. Anytime she got ahead, I'd catch pneumonia or have fainting spells because of my weak heart. Then all her savings would go to doctors again."

"Steve..." Bucky started to say something consoling, but Steve powered on, his gaze distant.

"She was dying, could hardly breathe. They didn't want me near her because of the TB, but what the hell, I wasn't likely to live long anyway, so they let me stay by her bed. All the time she was dying, she was worried about me, how I would live, who would take care of me when I was sick. She didn't have a thought for herself, even when she was dying. The last thing she said to me was how much she loved me, how I'd been her greatest joy.

"Joy," Steve scoffed. "Anchor, is more like it. I was an anchor around her neck all her life."

"You were an anchor for me, too," Bucky said. At Steve's hurt look, Bucky continued, "But not around my neck. How many guys in our neighborhood went to the bad, Steve? No money, no jobs. Guys abandoned their families, hopped a freight and moved on. Or they joined the mob — the White Hand Gang or Luciano's boys. The Irish mob tried to recruit me, you know. I had a rep as a fighter, but I couldn't do it. I knew you and my folks would be ashamed of me. And I'd have flunked out of school if you hadn't helped me, or just dropped out so I could get a job. You convinced me I'd get a better job if I finished, and I did.

"You were my anchor, Steve. You kept me from drifting off."


End file.
